All We Ever Are
by KaGoMeS-kId-TrEaSuRe
Summary: When given the opportunity, Sebastian decides that the young master's life is worth more than immortality. Sebaciel. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**_Prologue_**

_If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love...I am nothing. -Corinthians 13:1-2_

I have yet to understand this thought. Humans, arrogant as they are foolish, believe in love. But love is a concept, much like dreams and time, created by mortals to measure things they are unable to grasp.

Why anyone would willingly throw away their life for _love_ is beyond me. The very idea is laughable, considering it is rarely reciprocated. But their unquestionable belief is an intriguing notion in its own way, and I will be satisfied to witness it first hand.

**_Part I: The Contract_**

The unconscious child lay on the floor of the gondola, unperturbed by the waters that rocked us. His stillness was unnerving, even for me. Occasionally his pulse slackened, the inaudible hum making me anxious. His fingers were quickly losing color, turning icy as the paddle touched the shores of the Île des Morts. He wasn't dead. No, he couldn't be. I did everything in my power to protect him from the deviant angel who ripped apart his family. He was alive. Barely breathing, perhaps, but still alive. There was a tinge of warmth that had yet to leave his body. I could _feel_ it.

Tossing the paddle away, I lifted him from his slumber. His body clung to me as I carried him down the path, sheltering him from the soulless thieves that groveled as we walked past. It was common here, for the once-living to regain a touch of life, and spring back in the presence of a soul. Death does not cease a human's covetous ways. Even now, they were trying to replace their lost soul by stealing someone else's. Their indistinct, yet humanoid features contorted as they meekly grasped onto my trousers, pulling themselves up to my knees at a chance to touch him. Ignoring them, I slinked across the barren wasteland, their wretched moans amplified with each step.

The quietude of the land was unsettling, and although I had travelled here millions of times in the past, this time held a significant change. Any demonlings inhabiting the forest had either disappeared or gone into hiding, leaving nothing but the stillness of the night. The vanishing moon was fully exposed, as if someone had sucked up every cloud from the sky. A dense grove of cypress trees enshrouded us, warning me with their ominous presence. Mountainous cliffs stood exactly as they had for eternity, but in midst of the rubble and crumbling walls was a subtle sense of poignancy.

Everything must end here.

Gently sitting him on the bench, I stepped back and waited until he woke up. His head nodded off to the side, the way it did whenever he procrastinated and dozed at his office desk. Chuckling, I decided to flatten the creases in his shirt. After all, if I couldn't do _this_...

Brushing his locks aside, I lifted his chin to retie his silken bow. He stirred a bit, and in that shift, it dawned on me just how beautiful his frailty was.

He was like a porcelain doll. But _Jumeau_ himself could never fabricate a masterpiece like the little Lord. In stark contrast with his ivory skin, his dark hair framed his finely crafted face. The cerulean orbs that dominated his features glistened every way he turned. His figure was too delicate to be threatening, too small even for someone his age. And, while he hated being referred to as a child, the deeper he drifted in his slumber, the younger and otherworldly he seemed. Why, even cherubim could look upon him and feel envious at the sight.

Yes, the young master was exactly that: a doll made to be admired, but never touched.

His weary eyes fluttered open, glazed and transfixed on me. Slowly regaining consciousness, I felt his stare tracing me as he tried to register his surroundings. Against my better judgement, I allowed his liquid irises to envelop me. I drowned myself faster in the fragments of his so readily available soul. He stifles a yawn, and I can only comfort him with a smile. The battle between angles and demons could exhaust anyone.

For once he is speechless, perhaps even nervous as he averts his gaze towards the horizon. I look with him, ready to challenge whatever has diverted his attention from me.

"This is it, isn't it?" he says in a voice that conceals any fear. I nodded in reply. I couldn't bring myself to say a word, not when doing so would shatter the illusion before me. All I wanted was to hear was his demanding, and charming, little voice.

The fact that he insists on bravery until the end does not surprise me. It was expected of the earl to calmly embrace his death. Unlike others who pleaded for their lives, he honoured his end of the bargain. He threw himself into the darkness, blindly following a path that would eventually claim his end. Though my apathy for the others multiplied the longer I was with them, the child was certainly an exception. It was his unwavering determination that captured me to begin with.

"Until next time," he chimed, mockingly. Of course he is aware that this is the last time for our quips. This life was our second chance, and we have already pushed past the limits of our luck.

"Sebastian..." he calls, before swiftly delving into himself to search for the words. He catches himself before he says the unnecessary, and his features morph into a placid mask of indifference. Nonetheless, his emotions are transparent. A great part of him is just as disappointed. He will deny it to the very ends of the earth, but he too, did not want our games to end.

I find myself grinning, knowing what he is trying to hide from me. He won't say what he wishes to. The words are heavy on his lips, but he is much too proud to say them. However, he doesn't have to. Overused expressions are meaningless to us, and have long lost their significance. I am pleased not by what he is _trying_ to say, but because he is aware we are not defined by "love".

So, before he is able to say anything else, I inch closer and mold our lips together, feeling what little remained of my sanity slip away.

At first he is startled. His eyes widen, and my laughter is muffled by his irritated lips when his cheeks get hotter and turn an exquisite shade of pink. How I have yearned to touch him like this, the intimacy of our mundane tasks were never lost on me. I wanted to embrace him more, to cover every inch of his skin with flushed kisses as the days go by. Everything I am has been made for him, and in return, he is _mine_.

His fatigue becomes known as he uses up his strength to protest. Untangling myself from him, he bats his lashes for the final time, and gives me a reassuring nod. Then, he closes them, and in anticipation for my kill, goes limp.

We made a covenant unlike any other.

And as promised, this is how it ends.

**_Part II: Nothing_**

By the time the silver haired reaper arrived, the young master was asleep in my embrace. Cradling him, I listened intently to the rhythmic pulse of his organ. He hadn't moved since he collapsed onto me, his pale skin damp with perspiration, and I had begun to worry he caught a cold.

"There's still time," I inform Undertaker. "He's breathing."

"Barely," he replies, eyes flickering to the boy.

Undertaker had knowledge of everything from the beginning. He knew my life prior to being a demon, and from the memories he extracted from me, knew that I loved the boy's soul from our first life. He foresaw everything, and witnessed first hand how ensnarled we were in the other's lives, how _addicted_ we had become.

So, while this island bordered on demon territory, I knew he would find us when the time came.

"I'm surprised his eyes aren't already gauged out," he mused, temporarily failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation, as a ravenous desire roused in the pit of my stomach. I was famished...

Prying my gaze from the boy, I manage to smirk at him.

"You really didn't really plan to do it, did you?" he wondered, shaking his head in disbelief. "This kind of self control is truly unparalleled! It's a wonder you haven't imploded yet!"

The sky erupted with his uncontainable laughter. While I normally tolerated his outbursts, by now my mind was clouded, my hazy vision hindering me from brushing off his insult. Already my nails were growing at a steady pace, snagging into my coat sleeves as they shaped into the likeness of a bird's talons.

"Well, then..." he sighed when I didn't share in his humour. Kneeling in front of us, he gestured for me to transfer the boy into his arms.

"I suppose you can hand him over and we can go our separate ways."

It took every ounce of self control to restrain myself from slapping hands away. Did he really believe I would give let him go so easily? Once upon a time, I walked out of his life. I will not do so again.

"That won't do. As you can tell, I am currently...transforming," Whilst saying so, I'm reminded of my discomfort as tiny plumules sprout at the nape of my neck, puncturing my flesh like needles. Briefly glancing down, I noticed my skin shriveling up, shedding to reveal the pigmented layer of graphite.

"If I stay like this, I will persistently follow him until I consume his soul. There is no where you can hide him from me. This is what was stated when we first made the contract."

"I don't understand..." He falls silent, shooting me an inquisiting glance.

"Please," I breathed, sangria eyes flashing, "Make me human"

"Are you a _fool_?"

"Even with my powers, I cannot make myself into a human. But you... you are a Death _God_. Your name has God_ in it_. Your kinda have interacted with mortals longer than demons have. There must be something, a method of some sort, _anything_..."

"Don't be ridiculous! What you're asking for is impossible. No demon has ever wanted to become human."

"If there is a chance we may live _normally_, then _I _will. Live in a world without him? Have a sunrise without him? I'd cease my own existence before allowing that to happen."

"But, why? Why not make the earl a demon if you so wish to continue on like this? You have the power to do that, don't you?" Undertaker asked carefully.

"And I thought _I_ was the demon," I mused. "How could you suggest such a selfish act? Turn the master into a demon without his consent?"

"Then ask him for it-"

"Make him something as vile and repulsive as myself? Force him to go through the pain of transformation, while I sit helplessly and watch him turn into a monster, just so I may live as I please? Why should he suffer for my actions? My decisions? Why would I ever want that for him?"

"He'd still be alive, at least."

Inhaling, I closed my eyes and carefully explained, "The boy is _mine_. Every fiber of my being is made for him. He must stay exactly as he is now. I will not enslave him to a life of immortality. Not if it means he loses his soul along with his humanity."

Undertaker paused again, contemplating the information I had given him. Then, when enough silence passed, and he had scrutinized me to know I was unmoving, he tilted his top hat over his eyes and sighed.

"There may be a way..."

"Anything. I will do anything. As long as it means being with him for a little longer, that I am never without him."

"It hasn't been done before and I can't guarantee it will work. You are aware how this will most likely end, yes?"

I merely nod as he swiftly rotated on his heel and motioned for us to go. Hurriedly getting on my feet, I followed him.

"Gaining a soul isn't as simple as it seems, and it will no doubt be painful for you," he warned over his shoulder, "but considering you were once an angel means that you possessed one at some point. Although you're a demon, your soul still remains somewhere buried within you. That's why you're able to feel increments of human emotion, albeit the malevolent ones. We just need to reawaken it and potentially extract all immortality from you."

Pain was something I was already accustomed to. Surely there was nothing Undertaker could do to me that I was incapable of handling. And even if I underestimated the torment, I will willingly put myself through it at the chance of letting him live. The young master has given me something I never dreamed of wanting. He has shown me what I had been missing in the monotonous life I had accepted. He _changed_ me.

To be able to feel the things he feels, I will become human.

"We'll kill the demon in you, and make you mortal. Though, I can't say exactly how it might affect you overall."

"That's quite all right," I assured him.

I have been nothing for far too long. I could never go back to that again.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. So, this was sorta originally an alternative ending to Promise to the Empty Sky (look at me, shamelessly advertising). It wrapped up all of Sebastian's development nicely, but completely ignored Ciel's. Buuuuut I thought that making a fanfic from my other fanfic was presumptuous of me so… this is meant to be read as a stand alone.<strong>

**Note: For those who think "Sebastian would never become human or die for Ciel's sake" read like the first chapter of Promise because his character's motives are better explained (I hope). I tried to explain it without overloading you with too much info. So yeah, sorry if it still doesn't make sense. I should be back with chapter two within the week. **


	2. Chapter 2

**_Part III: Promises, Promises_**

An excruciating wail immediately roused me from sleep. The familiar, yet never before heard noise struck me like a jolt of electricity. Blood rushed to my brain as I sat myself up. My head weighed more than usual, the disorientation akin to being unconscious for days. Resting my forehead on my knees, I waited for the throbbing to stop before scanning the contents of the unknown chamber. I knew the bed was not my own, and the room was too small to belong to anyone in the Phantomhive household.

Without a moment to speculate where I was, the voice called out again. The thrum of my heart increased when I realized the reason I stirred to begin with. Ignoring my disheveled appearance, I was abruptly on my feet and scampering out a foreign door in search of the source.

Running through corridors of faded wallpaper, my feet dirtied with each step. Portraits of unfamiliar faces hung on the walls. Their images were meticulously painted, with precise brushstrokes, filling canvases with rounded cheeks and ashen faces, but every single one featured the same vacant stare. The closer I was to the sound, the more uncomfortable I became as their eyes followed me.

My mouth was parched by the time I maneuvered between molding coffins and broken jars. Stacked haphazardly, they blocked the halls, giving off an unpleasant stench. When I wasn't careful enough a shard of glass penetrated my heel. Wincing, I pressed on. Something was wrong, and I was determined to figure out what it was. Paying no attention to the trail of smeared blood, I found the wooden door standing in the way of me and the culprit. Steadily, I lifted a hand to pry the entrance open, and peaked inside.

Nothing could prepare me for the scene behind the doors.

In the middle of the Undertaker's shop were two coffins pushed together that pass off as a table. A thinly veiled cloth draped over them, spilling over the edges, and moving fluidly as the being laying on it thrashed about. Its limbs contorted in a disturbingly jerky fashion as if it were unable to control its movements. Undertaker hovered over the creature at a loss of what to do to appease it. Countless times I heard him mumble 'sorry', as if he was to blame for its suffering. Whether it was another one of his failed experiments, I did not care. I will put it out of its misery.

The door hinge creaked, alerting the reaper. Both heads turned and I was finally given a a better glimpse of the figure.

"Young...Aarguhh..."

Undertaker moved swiftly towards me in an effort to block my view. I tried to look past him as he gently pushed me out the room, but all I could see was his expression of absolute pity. I immediately knew why.

Shoving him into an empty coffin, I stepped closer to the body. He fell backwards and grabbed the back of my collar, pulling me along. Spinning around, I elbowed him in the ribcage and kicked him off as hard as I could muster, my elbow bruising instantly. Yet that was not enough to make him stop. In the same motion, he lurched forward, this time wrapping his arms around my own to disable an upcoming attack.

"Who do you think you are? Let go!" I insisted, purposely stomping on his toes.

"Mas-n-nghh."

I stopped resisting and reverted my attention to the man on the coffins. He stared right back at me. Sangria met cobalt, and his brows dipped into a low furrow, the corners of his mouth curved downward. This time, it was different. While the colour was still present, a dull mahogany replaced the once fiery red. An unfathomable babel escaped his lips. His arm was extended in my direction, and for the briefest moment, I thought he was calling me. Clearing the lump in my throat I demanded,

"What's going on?"

Undertaker sighed, unclenching his muscles. The moment his grip on me slackened, I slapped his hands away and stepped back to face him.

Angrily, I yelled, "What's happening?" He merely looked at me before walking back to the coffins.

"He's...human..." Undertaker said carefully, avoiding my glare. In that instant, a violent convulsion took over Sebastian. His eyes rolled back into his head and up towards the ceiling in a spasm similar to when I first walked in. As the fit continued, the arch of his back rose, thrusting his chest higher into the air, only to smash back into the lid of a coffin. The bones in his spine give way with a loud crack. The reaper retreated, and lifting his arm to restrain me.

"What?" The cry was paralyzing. It was unmistakably his silvery voice, the one that belonged to the missing presence I expected at the side of my bed when I awoke. Always calm and laced with an incomparable smoothness, his voice now had the same affinity as those with corrosive liquid poured down their throats.

"Se-sebastian?" I called, hesitantly walking over, "What does he mean?"

The pounding in my ears returned with the force of a roaring crescendo, until everything else was muted by my heartbeat. An unrelenting chill washed over me. My fingers were suddenly numb as another illicit sob slipped past him, and his thrashing eventually ceased. When his chest was the only thing moving, and Undertaker deemed him no threat, he released me. Then, grabbing an empty bucket on the floor, he nodded in my direction, his eyes not quite meeting mine.

"I'll...give you two some time," he said, before shamelessly excusing himself. It made no difference to me where he went, my mind currently occupied by the _human_ before me.

"Sebastian, answer me." He growled in response to me grabbing his jacket sleeve.

And then I remembered. I remembered the moments leading up to the end. I remembered what he did before I closed my eyes. We made a deal.

"WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?! I demand to know why I'm still here, dammit! This wasn't part of our deal, you bastard!"

Without realizing it, I mounted the coffins and straddled him. Despite his suffering, I couldn't control myself from furiously striking him wherever I could. My fists banged against his chest, and he did nothing to stop me. Specks of his blood splashed on me, but I couldn't control my rage. The liquid was hot on my skin and I wanted to wake myself from this nightmare.

He went back on his word. I received my revenge and gave him all of me. He brought me to some desolate place, and I was ready to give him my soul. Everything until this point prepared me for this day. It was set. I thought I was dead. I knew I had to be, if we were doing such things. So why then, is he standing in and bearing my pain for me? This had to be a dream.

"I couldn't do it...ugh... Ciel," he sighed. The mention of my name stopped me. It warmed me. My trembling fists clenched and unclenched, and I meekly hit him once more.

"I couldn't take your soul...ngh-continue living the way I was. I- mhf- wanted to feel what it was to be _human_..."

"But you...you're _hurt_," I reason. He shook his head, and a beautiful smile spread across his once angelic face.

"For you to-arh- worry so much...I must say, my lord, I am quite pleased."

He drew me closer with what little strength he had left, pulling me into him. And while his current state repulsed me, his blood soaking my garments and staining my hands with a scent I would continue to smell for days on end, I clung tighter onto his dress shirt, unable to deny him.

"We had a deal," I muttered. It was all I could say. His body was already aging at an alarming rate. Within minutes his insides split open to reveal the rawness of his muscles. He was being reduced to the human's elements, and drying out like a mummified corpse. The remainder of his skin was a rich crimson, turning hard and chalky to the touch.

"I'm sorry- ngh-I was hoping you wouldn't... mhm, that you wouldn't have to see me like this. I wanted you to remember me as the perfect butler through and through but now I'm- _arghhh,_" he was interrupted by another breathy moan.

"You idiot," I muttered, leaning over to press my forehead to his chest. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Come now. Someone as clever as you should be able to figure that out." He tightened his hold around my head and waist, drawing me in. While normally I would brush off this kind of affection, this time it was comforting. But as much as I wanted to stay like this forever, I would not allow him to hide the severity of his current state behind such a gesture. He groaned when I pushed off him, but again, did not resist. His fight is ending, and he is growing weaker every second.

"... you're dying..."

"I'm _fine," _he assured, waving me off, and tugging at my hand to return to our original position.

My eyes narrowed. "Liar. You're not even strong enough to lie convincingly."

"I do...apologize...my lord," he gave me a wry smile and lifted his arm to stroke through my hair. But he was slipping, and before he could combed through it, the joints of his shoulder blade snapped. He grunted and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed down even more.

"We made a contract. How could you...you can't leave me here, Sebastian. Can you hear me? YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME-"

He promised.

"SEBASTIAN," I yelled again, grasping onto his jacket, shaking him. His head lulled back and forth, and his withered hair sprawled all over his face.

**-****_Crack-_** His jaw swung out of position and blood seeped from his mouth.

"I ORDER YOU TO LIVE!"**_ -Crack-_** His arm went limp as it separated from its socket, and I stopped myself from causing him more harm.

Gingerly he moved his left hand and placed it over my fists. Then, smirking, he said, "I'm not a _demon_ -ngh- anymore my lord. I apologize, but even your orders aren't enough..."

I felt the prickling in my nose and the welling of something in my eyes. A new lump formed in the base of my throat as he looked up at me.

"_Please..._" I croaked.

It took me a moment to realize he hadn't blinked in a while, and that the hand covering mine had stiffened. We were now the same frigid temperature.

"No...no..." I moved my ear to his heart. It was still. Yielding to the sudden emptiness, I rested on top of him, unable to cry.

"You're not supposed to...you were the only one..."

_You are the only one who was not to leave me. _

**_Epilogue_**

Sometimes things aren't 'meant to be' the way we presume. We are born, we live, and we die. The price of mortality is that we go through this life, suffer over needless things, and after that, nothing becomes of us. We are simply left with the lies and empty promises others leave us with.

I love Sebastian, and I know in some twisted way, he loved me too.

While I spent more time without him, he is essentially in every step I take. My life should carry on the way it was before him. I should be grateful for this extended life, but I cannot forget. His touches are forever engraved on my skin, always leaving me to yearn for his somatic warmth. More often than not, his voice is the one that calls to me in the middle of the night. What starts off as a welcome melody soon grows into a blood curdling scream. It gnaws at the quiet I plead with. It mars his fragrance with the sickening smell of blood. It suffocates me with an irrepressible surge of abandonment.

After years of not knowing what to do with myself, I decided to give up my existence. I knew it would mean Sebastian's sacrifice was in vain, but for his sheer selfishness, I was convinced he deserved it. He saved me. More times than necessary, he sheltered me from the nothingness I enveloped myself with. The idiot gave a dramatic performance, and without consulting me, pulled down his own curtains to save me. As if I ever cared for his theatrics. He betrayed me by deliberately breaking our contract. Why should I honor a life I did not ask for?

But God would not allow me to take my own life. There were more suitable consequences for me.

Lizzie was first to leave me, her death a shock all those years ago. Then, when I outlived all my servants, I realized the inadvertent fate I was assigned to. The final retribution for renouncing my faith that night, was to watch everyone I could ever care for leave the earth before me. I was to grieve for them over the ample time I had left to think. As a repercussion for escaping death more than once, I was to do this alone.

When my time comes, I will be eagerly awaiting it. Not because I hoped to see him waiting for me on the other side. No, I will never allow myself such a careless wish. Living longer than I would ever want to has taught me why Sebastian left me that day. Immortality drained him. He thought he was sparing me from a much crueler end, but he was wrong. Sebastian took and took. He took from me the only thing I needed in this life. He took all of me. He left me without a reason to live.

There is a dissatisfactory thought in the fact that our lives do not only belong to ourselves, and sometimes, _sometimes_, our lives just end, and _that is it._ When I die, the memories of him will die along with me, and that will be the end of our story. That's all we ever are. We are a pile of flesh waiting to feel that reciprocated feeling, that wanton need we are all lost without. We seek it. We crave it. And only after we have found it can most of us feel even the slightest bit complete. Only then can we declare with certainty that we are alive.

And that's what is important. _We lived_.

**_The End._**

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. Well that's it. Thank you very much for reading! Reviews and favourites are quite appreciated <strong>***nudge* *nudge* *wink* *wink* **

**(and hugs for those who already did. Seriously guys. I really, really love you!)**


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